


Kneel for me

by Sherlock1110



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: D/s, Dom Sherlock, Kneeling, M/M, Post TLD, Service, Sub John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 18:15:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12538192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110
Summary: At the end of TLD John breaks down, but it’s more than losing Mary, he lost his Domme, and he’s been dropping for a long time





	Kneel for me

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by sherlockian4evr

Sherlock held John's head to his chest, appreciating the height difference all the more now than he ever had before.

The pair stood, frozen in that spot for a long time. The doctor's sobs were dwindling down now as he calmed, or at least tried to.

"I think you need to submit, John," Sherlock said eventually.

"Mary's…" he choked on his words.

"We can manage." Sherlock knew exactly what the older man meant. It wouldn't be easy, but John couldn't go on like this indefinitely.

John didn't move from where he was. He couldn't.

Sherlock should have seen to this before, but he'd known there was nothing he could do about it until John had 'saved' him. Mary had been right about that. So right. Now he had to fix the rest of John that was going wrong.

"John, you've been dropping for some time, it's almost like it's been… well in slow motion for you to not have completely broken down." He could only imagine it had been the case keeping him going.

"Hmm," John couldn't bring himself to let go of Sherlock, not now the man that had been such an insufferable prat not that long ago had initiated a hug of his own making.

Sherlock wasn't an experienced Dom, not by a long shot, but he'd spent many of his younger years thinking he was submissive like his brother, so had seen many in action. He had just never found the time to use it, it had always seemed inappropriate with John and when he had returned from Eastern Europe he had sworn to make things different, he'd just been too late.

The way John was clinging onto him made him rethink the whole 'no Domming John Watson' thing. That had been Mary's… Mary's role.

Taking a deep breath, the detective kissed the top of his head.

"Kneel for me, John," he whispered softly, he had to do something. He couldn't leave his best friend on this self-destructive war path.

The doctor shook his head and held on tight, still sobbing. If he let go of Sherlock he doubted he'd ever hold him again.

"Now, John," the Dom ordered.

The blond took a step back and dropped to his knees, head low.

"Is Mary still there?" Sherlock asked, tilting his head back with a finger under his chin.

John glanced towards the sofa where he had last seen her. "No." Was he glad about that? Should he be glad about that? He thought he was. He thought he should be.

"No, what?"

"No, sir," John ducked his head again, feeling so small and childlike.

"Good boy," Sherlock ran his hands down the back of John's neck and massaged some of the muscles that were so clearly knotted.

Sherlock massaged him for a long while and then stepped away, John's head tipped back of his own accord and he smiled up at him slowly.

"We'll start with a bit of service. Go and put the kettle on."

John nodded once and got to his feet before heading off to the kitchen.

Sherlock settled himself in his armchair and sighed. Thoughts on the case muddled through his mind, all of them coming to end with John Watson. His head was spinning and he found himself hoping it was because of John and not the drug fix he so desperately craved. He didn't want to crave it, it had been a plan, a plan that had worked astonishingly well, but an addiction was exactly that. His thoughts moved to more here and now… 10 minutes ago John had been 'babysitting' him and somehow things had spun on their own. He'd have to let Molly know she wasn't needed tonight and then- his thoughts broke off when John appeared at the kitchen door carrying two mugs.

The detective patted his thigh. "Come here then."

With far more caution than was necessary, John walked across the room. He placed the mugs on the table and went to kneel but Sherlock shook his head. "No, pet," he said softly and instead grabbed his sleeve, pulling him down to the seat beside him.

John sat stiffly until the detective put his arm up and wrapped it around his shoulders. He brought his head down to his chest, within seconds John was sobbing again. He'd anticipated that.

"Shh," Sherlock whispered, resting his hand in the doctor's hair. "You're fine. Everything will be fine."

"Mary-"

"Loved you. More than you know, John. Loved you, not the man you think she wanted you to be."

"Rosie-" his next complaint was cut off by Sherlock shushing him again.

"Will be fine with Mrs. Hudson a little longer."

"Hmm," John buried his face into the detective's shoulder. "It wasn't your fault."

Sherlock froze his smoothing of John's hair, but he didn't say anything.

"Sherlock, really, it wasn't-"

"Shh," the younger man held John to his chest tighter. "That doesn't matter now."

The doctor snuggled in for a moment longer before pushing himself out of Sherlock's grip and kneeling at his feet.

"John-"

"Please, Sherlock, sir."

"Alright."

John lent to the side, his head falling to Sherlock's knee. Sherlock pushed his hand into his hair, it had grown a lot, almost out of control.

"We need to sort this out," the detective whispered after a while, shaking his head about with it.

"No, we don't. Mary liked it. I want to keep it."

"Mary didn't like it, John."

Rather than get mad, John let out a laugh. "I would have cut it for her."

"She knew that. That's why she didn't say anything." He pressed a kiss to the top of the older man's head again before pushing him to the floor. "Service time, boy, something a little stronger, yeah?"

At those words alone, Sherlock watched as tension seeped out of John's shoulders.

"Take my shoes off."

Slowly, almost cautiously, the doctor bent over and undid the laces before pulling first one shoe off and then the second. He placed them together and to the side.

"Now hands behind your head."

The kneeling man straightened his back and interlocked his fingers before resting them behind his head.

He went to speak but Sherlock held his hand up, pressing his index finger to his lips. "No speaking, boy. Not until you have my permission, is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," he whispered.

"Good. Now spread your knees a little."

John did what he was told, not really understanding, seeing as he was still fully clothed.

"Bit more. And some more."

John groaned slightly as he continued to spread his knees, they were getting uncomfortable now.

"Stop."

"Sherlock-"

"Shut it." Sherlock held his finger up again. "Do not speak. Do not move. Stay like that for me. I want you to focus on the strain in your thighs, and pleasing me. Nothing else, are we clear?"

"Yes, sir," John's voice cracked slightly, the muscles in his legs tensing and untensing.

Sherlock sat very still for a long moment before leaning back and relaxing, his long legs spread out in front of him, mere inches from the doctor. This was just what John needed. And he would continue to give it to his best friend for as long as it was.

***

John's eyes had started off darting around the room, but now they had dropped like the rest of his head as he sunk towards subspace.

It wasn't long before the strain in his thighs meant he had to focus on not losing his balance as well as the pain but he managed it for long enough.

"Pet?"

When John looked up, the younger man smiled. "Service time, remember?"

"Yes, sir," John's voice was soft, soft and floating.

“Massage my feet.”

It took him a moment but the kneeling man shook himself out of his relaxed state of mind and turned his attention to Sherlock's feet. After so long he hadn't realised how tight his thighs had been until he managed to move them to get closer to Sherlock.

“You alright, pet?”

John had winced at the movement, but nodded at his new Dom, temporary or otherwise.

Sherlock pulled his feet back, “I don’t want you continuing if you’re in pain.”

“I’m fine, Sherlock. Sir. Honestly.”

“Hmm,” the detective didn’t know if he believed him or not, but he would let the older man continue.

John pulled his socks off and got to it. Rather than enjoying the massage, Sherlock watched the kneeling sub for any sign of more pain.

When he was done, John knelt back up and tried to return to his original position, to get the strain back in his thighs.

“Enough of that,” Sherlock ordered. “Come kneel at my feet.”

When John got close enough, Sherlock grabbed his chin. “Is Mary still here?”

John glanced over the Dom’s shoulder. “No, sir. No, she’s gone.”

Sherlock flicked the telly on then shot a text off to Mrs. Hudson. After a few minutes she came up the stairs, Rosie in her arms.

The little girl was tutting to herself. “Dada dada dada,” on a cycle.

John didn’t immediately try and get to his feet. Instead he glanced at Sherlock.

“Go on,” the detective ordered.

Rosie squealed as John gathered her up in his own arms. “Thanks, Mrs. H.”

Mrs. Hudson smiled. It was clear what had been going on moments before and she found herself rather proud of Sherlock. She grinned at them both before going back down the stairs.

“Come and sit over here, John.”

The blond settled himself beside Sherlock and dumped his daughter on his lap.

It caught the younger man off guard, but he smiled. “Hello Rosie. Want to watch some telly?”

“Dada dada dada dada.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”


End file.
